Being the State of Israel
by seikatsu-chan
Summary: Meet Idit Levi, better known as the State of Israel. She's been along for a long time, despite not being an official country until 1948. Who knows? There may still be an adventure for her yet.
1. Chapter 1: Horror Movies and Desert Runs

**Ari: Hello! This is the debut of my OC Israel. Hope you like it!**

**Please R&R! **

Israel lived in a fairly small house, nothing like what the other nations live in. It was just a regular house, with cream walls and a tan roof with a small, stone patio coming off the front door with some chairs and a small table on it. The house itself was only about 12 rooms, and that suited her just fine. She liked smaller, more normal houses. The big, extravagant ones reminded her of the ones she had live in for most of her life as she was passed on from empire to empire.

She was sipping a Coca Cola out of a can (not her favorite way to drink it, but it was all good). She sat on her front porch, eyeing the street. Some happy music drifted out of the small radio she had carried out on her porch.

Suddenly, a bright red Ford 4x4 bounded up the road to her house and screeched to a stop. A small smile spread across her lips, knowing what would happen next.

A blonde with a cowlick jumped out of the car. He was in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt. She stood up, waving at the man.

"Hey Izzy!" He screamed, bounding up to the small, stone porch.

Israel's face fell into a look of disbelief and slight shock. "Alfred, did you just call me... Izzy?"

"Yeah, why? It's cool!"

Israel shook her head. "If you're not going to call me Israel, just call me Idit like you're supposed to. Izzy is just odd. I don't like it one bit."

The American frowned a touch, somehow finding a way to look up at the small nation. "But I worked so hard on coming up with it..."

the Israeli woman sighed. "I understand how England feels when you and Francis call him Iggy. It's pure annoying."

"You used to call him Iggy!"

"No I didn't! You need to get your facts straight!" Israel shook her finger at him as if he were a puppy. America pouted. Israel smiled. "Aw, who cares? I missed you. It's been a while. This boss of yours doesn't like me much does he?"

Alfred shrugged. "Not really, but you're my best friend and I'll still keep it that way as long as I can. Even if I have a boss that says I can't."

Israel looked at America. The twinkle in his eyes told her that he meant it. America was really a rebel country in his heart, breaking away from England and then going to make himself great. She was a great deal older than him, but she looked up to him all the same.

She opened the door to her house. They walked inside, chatting until they reached the couch. Israel sat down.

"So, why'd you call me and tell me you were coming over?"

"Well," America smiled, "I got this!" He held up a zombie movie.

"America, this is the second one this month. You know you get scared."

"But it's so cool looking!"

Israel smiled and shrugged. "Want a Coke?"

It was nearly halfway through the movie and America was almost peed himself about 6 times. He hugged Israel's couch cushion like it was a lifejacket and they were in the middle of the ocean. He screamed every time something moved, which was quite common, seeing as people ran away from the zombies a lot.

Israel couldn't help but smirk at how stupid the movie was. The special effects were horrible, the plot was boring, and the movie was badly made. It didn't look like the "Attack of the Trick-Or-Treaters" rather than "Zombie Apocolipse IIII."

Israel turned off the TV. America turned to her with a look of disbelief.

"Dude, what was that? Why'd you turn it off?"

"You looked ready to pee yourself."

"So?"

Israel sighed. "And it was boring. Let's do something else, like exploring the desert in my jeep."

Alfred smiled. "That sound fun! TO THE JEEP!" He dragged Israel through the house. He then stopped abruptly and looked around. "Where are we?"

Israel took his hand. "Come on."

It was dark and the two countries had become exhausted, lying on the cold sand next to a dying fire.

"Look at the stars."

America glanced at the girl. "Wha?"

"They're always constant. Ever since I was a child I could always look up at these stars and they'd still be just as they are now."

"Wow, that's cool."

Israel could've sworn she'd just hear a little boy. She looked over, seeing a full grown man. Unlike her, he'd grown up really fast. He was just over 200 and yet he was a superpower.

Israel stood up, shaking her head, trying to get the sand out of her long braid. She walked over to the jeep and took out two bags. She threw one of them at America, who looked at her with confusion.

"We can sleep here, can't we? I don't want to drive back, and I'm not letting you drive my car. We wouldn't get back to a road for another half an hour and it would take a while to get back to Jerusalem and its nearly 2:30."

America yawned, agreeing with her. They set up the sleeping bags. After they were all ready to go to bed, America fell asleep immediately, leaving Israel lots of time to stare at the stars.


	2. Chapter 2: My First Wold Meeting

**Ari: Hi guys! Thanks for all of the reviews~ I love you all!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (if I did, this wouldn't be fanfiction), but I do own Idit! **

**Idit: So without further ado, here's Ch. 2**

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><p>Israel sat on the floor in the corner. Though she was still under England, she still decided to come to the world meeting so she'd have some experience after the British Mandate expired. She wasn't allowed to negotiate, but she knew a few people from always living in someone else's house.<p>

Suddenly, she saw a girl with long, brown hair. Israel ran up to her. "Hungary!"

Hungary turned around. "Israel!" She pulled the girl into a hug. "Why are you at a world meeting?"

"England said I needed to have some idea what I was doing before the Mandate was over. I'm just happy to be in a room with all of you. I haven't seen you in a while."

"And who is this Hungary?" Hearing a thick German accent, Israel tensed up, staring over Hungary's shoulder into the red eyes of an albino.

"Prussia, go away."

"That's so unawesome! Why can't I see who the little Arab nation is?"

"I-" Israel regained some of her composure. "I am not an Arab nation."

"Then who are you?"

"Israel."

"Why are you here?"

Israel sighed. "I should be asking you the same thing, Prussia. Didn't your country fall?"

Prussia humphed and Israel turned and left, leaving Hungary to squabble with the ex-empire.

She walked around the room, avoiding Germany and the rest of the Axis Powers. England, France, and America were fighting and Russia was scaring most of the known world.

Suddenly, she heard a familiar snore. There he was, Greece was sleeping in a chair, somehow able to stay that way despite the screaming. He looked so much older than her, as did everyone else, even though she was about his age! It wasn't fair. She was well over 2000 and she only looked to be about 15.

Suddenly, she felt a tap on her shoulder, breaking her away from her thoughts. She turned around, prepared to defend herself, only to find Spain.

"You're new here, si?"

"Spain, it's me."

"Ahahahah... I can't say I remember you."

"אידיוט. I can't believe you don't recognize me. Has it really been that long since we lived with Rome?" Israel chuckled and smirked a bit. "It's me, Israel."

Spain's eyes grew as big as saucers. "Israel?" He pulled her into a hug. "You grew up so much!"

After a few seconds later the hug was awkward. After about 30, Israel began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep, like Greece.

Then, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Followed by a stereotypically French laugh. Spain finally let go.

"Ah, France, how are you?"

"Israel? Is that you? How have you been mon cheri?" He leaned down and kissed her hand.

"I've been okay, but what's with the formalities? My big brother shouldn't be kissing my hand like that. What happened to you?"

"What happened to me?"

"Yes, what happened to you. You used to be so girly and wear a dress and-"

"Hehe- Israel..." a light blush crossed the Frenchman's face.

America walked up to her. "Whoa, dude. Is that true?"

"Yeah, France used to dress like a girl. He was actually the one who taught me how to braid my hair. And England wanted to want to be just like big brother France." Everyone looked at England. "I could've swore I was the sanest person in Rome's house."

Soon, all the former roman countries had circled around Israel sharing memories and laughing with some of the younger countries listening from around the edges.

She wished her grandmother could've seen this. She had survived after all this time and some people didn't know she existed, but at least she had some old friends, even if she didn't look half as old as them.

"Israel, why the bloody hell did you tell them about the long hair incident? And how did you even find out about that?"

"Three words England. Big. Brother. France." Israel chuckled and walked up to her room in England's vast house along with the others who came with her.


	3. Chapter 3: Memories of Rome

**Hello! Thank you for all of the great reviews!**

**I wanted to do a little bit more on Rome's house (and it's the perfect opportunity for my little Spamano-ish awesomeness!). This takes place after the meeting, where she is bunking with Lichtenstein. :)**

**Please R&R**

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><p>Ch. 3<p>

Israel suddenly burst out laughing when she woke up. She laughed so hard that tears began to form in her eyes.

"W-What's the matter Israel?"

She saw the small face of Lichtenstein leaning over her bunk to see her with a concerned look on her face.

"I-it's nothing, just a really funny memory from Rome's house."

"You guys talked about that a yesterday, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't remember this until now."

By now, Lichtenstein had gotten curious. She climbed down from her bunk and sat on Israel's bed. "Tell me please."

"Okay, so you know I lived with Rome after he made grandmother and I move to his house."

"Yes."

"So, I had the crazyest job in the house."

Israel sat on the floor with a relieved look on her face. She had just put the Italy brothers down for their nap and she hoped that they would stay that way. Feliciano's crying had kept her up all night.

Just as she was about to fall asleep, she heard the putter patter of small feet. She opened her eyes, seeing little Lovino standing over her.

"I'm not tired."

"Now, Lovino, you know what your grandfather-"

"I don't care about my grandfather, damnit! He likes Feliciano better anyways!"

Israel smiled sympathetically. She knew the feeling. Rome hated her, no matter what job he'd given her. It was just that she was the only there because she was the only country Rome had taken over who was a girl that he didn't want as a concubine. According to him, there was only one other thing she could do.

Lovino continued his ramblings, going on about how Feliciano was better at everything and how everyone liked him more.

"I never asked to be Southern Italy, damnit! I don't want to be a country! I hate being in a toddler's body when I'm older than most men who live in this empire!"

Israel sighed. She knew the feeling. Nobody took her seriously. Even though her grandmother had fallen ill, they didn't listen to her, resulting in the takeover by Rome.

"You know, Lovino, at least you still have your grandfather. My grandmother fell ill and died when Rome took over. I can never see her again." Israel hugged her knees to her chest. "It's one of the 10 commandments, you know. "You will always really love your siblings in your heart." You really do care about Feliciano; I've seen it. You were just excited as I was when he got better that one time he had that really bad fever."

Romano blushed lightly. "I did not! I was just happy I wouldn't be stuck in this house alone with you and all those bastards!"

Israel could've sworn she'd seen a tear roll down his cheek. Romano cried a bit, then calmed down and eventually fell asleep. She tucked him into bed.

She sat in the corner; ready to fall asleep again when she heard it open. There was Spain. He walked over to Lovino's cradle and smiled.

"Good. You're not crying anymore." Spain stroked the little boy's face. Then, he slowly turned around, seeing Israel in the corner.

"Yeah, it took a while." Israel yawned quietly.

Spain blushed a little bit before excusing himself. Israel fell asleep the second he closed the door.

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><p>"So Lovino has an inferiority complex?"<p>

"Yup."

"And how is that funny?"

"No, the funny part was when Spain came over. It was the ongoing gag that he cared about the older Italy brother, but he wouldn't admit it. I had proof, but I was too tired to realize."

"Ah..."

"Let's get ready for the world meeting."

"Okay."


	4. Chapter 4: THE HORROR, I mean KITTIES!

**Guys, I'm sorry. This chapter came from staying up until 2 AM on Saturday watching Nekotalia. That reminds me... The first time I saw Nekotalia, I thought it was Chibitalia coming back to haunt me! XD**

**Just a reminder, I do not own Hetalia, but I do own Idit. If I owned Hetalia, this would not be _fan_fiction. :D**

**Please R&R**

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><p>Israel walked down the street in Rome, marveling at how much had changed. She was her own country now, trying her hardest to stay that way with a poser who called himself Palestine trying to get at her. It was nice to relax, as he was not invited to the world meeting.<p>

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned around slowly, peeping herself for running away. There was Romano. She hadn't seen him in years.

He had grown taller, overtaking her. He had become more muscular and lost his baby fat. He was actually pretty hot, she thought. Then it hit her.

"Damn it all! Even you look older than me!" Israel pouted, looking at the boy she had taken care of as a child.

"What?" Romano looked lost. He joined her, though.

"What's your human age?" Israel was pouting up a storm and she knew it. Romano was starting to look at her like she had three heads.

"Nineteen."

Israel sighed dramatically. "Look at what this world has come to! Even Lovi looks older than me! Why must I be cursed to look so much younger than I am?"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, DAMN IT!"

Israel sighed and put her hands in her pockets. "But you let Spain call you that~. Why can't I?"

A light blush tinged the Italian's face. He stuttered for a while before Israel began to laugh.

"WHAT?"

"Nothing, Romano, nothing." This was only to be expected. Spain had been after him for as long as she could remember. It was only natural that Spain would grow on him after a while.

They walked down the stone path in comfortable silence for a few more minutes. It was warm and humid, but nice, and Israel found herself enjoying it.

All of a sudden there was a loud boom coming from their left. They heard a scream. Israel darted off towards it, leaving Lovino scrambling after her reluctantly.

What they saw, nobody could explain. They saw Italy's clothes on the ground with the man nowhere in sight. Romano started swearing and screaming about the rapture.

"It's not the rapture!"

"How the fuck would you know?"

"See that cat over there?"

"Yeah, why?"

Israel went over and picked up the cat. She turned I face the Italian.

"Look at this cat. Look at it closely. What do you see?"

"T-that cat looks like mi fratello!"

"It is your brother."

A noise halfway between a meow and a Ve came out of the cat's mouth as it snuggled into Israel's coat.

"Let's go see if anyone else was effected by whatever turned Feli into a cat."

They only walked about half a mile down the street before a big, fluffy cat with a mane and a cowlick (if that was even possible) bounded up to them. It meowed extremely loudly, then followed them.

"America, check."

Soon, they had about 30 cats following them down the street. They knew how to get to the source. They just had to follow the trail of clothing with cats in them and they were bound to get there sooner or later.

After a while and about 15 more cats, they finally made it to England. He was in his cloak, asleep in an alley. Way to go, Iggy.

Israel shook him awake. He was groggier than a cat who just got kicked out of its napping place.

"TURN THEM BACK. NOW."

"What?" England sat up, rubbing his head.

"YOU. TURNED. EVERYONE. INTO. CATS."

"I-I did?"

"YES YOU DID DAMN IT! TURN THEM BACK BASTARD!"

"Fine..." England stood up and muttered something in Latin. There was a flash of light.

Then, Israel realized something. They had found these cats in piles of clothes. That meant... Oh my god. They shouldn't have any clothes on. She hoped that England had thought of that.

Israel's eyes became used to the light and she saw she was right. She closed her eyes and sat down, trying to avoid contact.

"WHAT THE F*CK?" There was Romano...


	5. Chapter 5: Mermaids, Stars, and New Love

**Hi people! Thank you so much for reviewing~**

**And standing up for me~ You all are amazing! :D  
><strong>

**No hard feelings, Doc. Just please don't do it again. (tsk, tsk, tsk...)**

**This has nothing to do with the storyline (if there even was one). It's a one shot that I wrote on valintines day that I thought might make up for the fact I'm having a minor case of writer's block.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or Alfred F. Jones. I do, however, own Idit.**

**Please R&R!  
><strong>

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><p>Ch. 5<p>

Israel sat down, her book of stories in her lap. The book was nearly as old as she was, with the "missing" pages of many a book that she had collected over the years strung together. It started with the makeshift papyrus book that her mother had written by hand and slowly grew into a great volume. She held everything in here, from fairytales to her signature falafel recipe.

She had just finished reading the two or three fairytales she had put in. They were the real versions, not the ones popular today, the ones with unhappy endings and a few gruesome feats. Those were the believable ones.

They were in various languages, from old English to German to Swedish, but she had written the stories in small Hebrew under the lines, making it so that she would always remember them. She loved the slope of the words and the beat that she had created. They washed over her like a cool river. Sometimes, they stung like an old wound. Most times, though, she just read them for enjoyment.

This was not one of those times. This time brought up an old wound, a wound that persisted through the ages.

She had just finished reading the little mermaid. This story always made her think. The little mermaid was trapped between two worlds. She was both a wild animal and human. At the beginning, she was mostly an animal. She ate, slept, and did anything she wanted to because she needed to. All of her life was based on immediate need or want, never giving a glance toward the future. Then, she met the prince. She discovered love. She wanted to be with the prince so badly that she risked her life. She knew and accepted the consequences. She began to learn what it meant to be human. He was in love with someone else. Her heart broke. Her sisters, still being animals, told her to kill the prince; she could get out alive. But she told them no; she wanted what was best for the prince. So she kept her dignity and loved him 'til she died, turning into sea foam. She was truly in love with the prince.

Israel had never been in love. Ever. It was a wound that went deeper than any other. Everyone else had been in love, but she never had. All of the countries, at some point, had been in love. But not her. She had never felt anything close to what these stories described. She doubted she ever would.

She stared at the book in front of her, the cover made of animal skin and metal. She saw droplets of water on it. She raised her hand to her cheek and realized she was crying. Warm, salty tears were running down her light caramel skin, making small rivers down her cheeks and dripping off of her chin.

Israel stood up and rubbed her eyes. The just needed some time to clear her mind. This would pass, like it always did. This time was no different than any other time that this had happened.

Israel ran outside to her backyard. She ran for a quarter of a kilometer before sitting down on the grass on her lawn and stared at the stars. They were clear as day, a billion specks in the sky. She tilted her head back more, seeming to be looking at the stars, but really stopping herself from crying.

Suddenly, she heard a crunch. She turned around, facing the noise in the darkness. There the outline of America stood, just down the hill from where she was. His cheerful blue eyes locked with her brown ones, making him smile and walk up to her.

"Hey Israel, how are ya?"

"G-good."

He sat down next to her. "If you say so... I don't really believe you. You were still for about ten minutes without blinking. What's wrong?"

Israel blushed, thankful that the darkness his it. And since when could America read the atmosphere so well? Something must be wrong with him too. He didn't sound right. "Nothing. I told you already."

A tear must have escaped her and landed on America's hand because he immediately grabbed her shoulders and pulled her around to face him. "Dude, if you're okay, why are you crying?"

"U-um... I don't know?" Israel was blushing even more now. She didn't know why. What was this?

America hugged her. "It's okay, you can cry." And she did cry. She pulled him into her, sobbing quietly. It wasn't the glamorous kind, either. She was crying like a two year old who just lost its blanket into her best friend's shoulder.

Eventually, she calmed down. Then she realized how embarrassing this all was. She tensed up, wanting to pull away, but he hugged her lightly and rubbed her back.

"T-Thanks." Her breathing had become even again and she pulled away, looking at the stars again.

America smiled in his usual air-headed way. "You're welcome, dude!" America looked at the sky next to her. He pointed up to their right.

"Orion's Belt. It's really pretty." Israel glanced at America, a bit taken aback. He had never shown more than a slight appreciation for stars. "What? Do you think I haven't paid a bit of attention all these years?"

"Yes."

"Wow dude, that's cold."

Israel chuckled. This night turned out better than she thought. She had started badly, being bored, and then crying. But she had had a better time than she would have ever expected. She got to spend time with America, even if she still wondered how he'd gotten so close to her house without her knowing.

Staring up at Orion, she smiled. An old wound healed, making her feel lighter than air. She could love. In fact, she was in love with the man sitting right next to her. She loved America, and no amount of anything would change that.

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><p><strong>AN: Well, would you look at that. Idit likes America~ **

**Thoughts?  
><strong>


	6. Chapter 6: I'm Not THAT Young! Tea

**A/N: Hi guys! I thought I should spice some things up after the whole UsXIsrael chapter. Just wondering, do you like it? **

**Time to use some characters I've never used before! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetal****ia, no matter how much I want to. I do own Idit, though.**

**Please R&R!**

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><p>Israel sat at the world meeting, twiddling her thumbs, or trying to at least. Everything was as usual, but she was bored. She was still a new country, so she had nothing to do. She could only discuss international policy with her boss present.<p>

Israel felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around. There was Feliciano.

"Ve~ Israel, how are you?"

"I'm doing great Feliciano." She pulled him into a hug. He ve~d quietly and hugged her back.

Suddenly, a huge man towered behind Feliciano. Israel tensed and looked down.

"What's wrong sorella?" Italy turned around. "Ve~ Germany! How are you!"

Israel started to bite the inside of her cheek. He was so TALL. Being 5'5" she didn't have much of a height advantage over anyone.

"Italy, who is this?"

"This is Israel, mi sorella maggiore!"

"Big sister? But Italy, she-"

"I'll have you know I am a great deal older than I look. I'm willing to wager I'm even older than you. Just because you look older than me does not mean you actually are! I'm older than half the people in this room!" Israel was screaming so rapidly that everyone began to stare. She stood her ground and glared into the light blue eyes of the German.

Germany was rendered speechless, as was most of the meeting hall. Israel sat down. She sighed. Now everyone knew about her pet peeve. She wondered how much Gilbert would pester her.

Instead, she felt a tap on her back. She turned around to find A little boy in a sailor suit and a boy who looked to be just barely younger than her. He was unusually short...

"Hi! I'm Sealand!" So this was Sealand. Israel looked at him. He looked so young and innocent. He looked just like England had described, short and cute, with England's eyebrows and a sailor outfit. "We know how you feel."

Israel raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Yeah, I mean I want to be recognized as a country so badly..." Sealand went off to rant about nothing.

In the meantime, she looked at the other boy. He looked about 15, but he was older than that. He did look very short. He as also was shivering. Was he scared? He kept looking over her shoulder.

Following his gaze, she found Russia. That explained everything. She'd been around forever and she was still deathly afraid of him. She didn't know who he was, but he looked more scared of the tall man across the room than anyone else in the universe.

Sealand stopped ranting, and Israel focused back on him. "And this is Latvia."

That explained why he was afraid of Russia! He was a Baltic, and the youngest at that. She wasn't as familiar with the Baltic nations as most of the other groups. Latvia had never come up to her before, but she was happy he did. Sealand, on the other hand, was quite annoying. He was just as England had described.

All of a sudden, she felt someone staring at her. Then, she heard France and England stop fighting. She turned around to see England storming over.

"SEALAND, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

"Hi you jerk England! I'm supposed to be here! I'm a country, aren't I?"

England raised an eyebrow (which must have been a huge feat considering the size of those things. They're like giant caterpillars!) and said, "No, nobody's recognized you as one as far as I know."

Sealand looked confused. "But you did, you jerk England!" he said. "You said Sealand wasn't part of England, so therefore-"

"Yes, but I never said Sealand was a country."

"You're so mean you jerk England!" Sealand ran out of the room, almost in tears. Latvia soon followed after the small boy.

Israel did a double take. That was really harsh. She knew he didn't want to loose his little brother, but this was too much. He was so little and innocent! How could he do such a mean thing so bluntly? She needed to find out, so she invited him to go get some tea after the meeting. He gladly accepted.

"Why are you so mean to Sealand?"

England almost choked on his tea. "I beg your pardon?"

"You were really harsh on him at the meeting. I've rarely seen you like that. You were always more passive towards me. The only other person I've seen you be like that to is India."

"Well, I have to-"

"He's really young, England. You should let him at least try to be accepted before you kick him out of the meeting like that. He seemed to be really good friends with Latvia. You weren't even acting motherly, like you usually do."

England's face was tinged red and he had a slightly appalled look on his face. "Motherly? How the bloody hell am I motherly?"

Israel proceeded to explain exactly how he acted like an over-bearing mother. She pointed out everything, and even talking about America's days as a colony, making him look to the ground, flustered and a bit confused.

"Honestly, I never realized..."

"And kneedlepoint, how is kneedlepointing not motherly, or even _grandmotherly_ in some way?"

"I guess I should have seen that one coming..."

Israel smiled knowingly. "So why are you so hard on Sealand?"

"Because he's not ready to be a country."

"I could tell that much, he rants more than America."

"Yes, but he... He... I just feel guilty for not taking care of him better."

That was not what Israel expected. At all. "Pardon?"

"Well, I was really harsh to him when he was little. You know that there are countries that are born and die in a few years, right?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"Well, I thought he was one of them. I completely disregarded him when he was little." England sighed, looking into his now-empty teacup. "I didn't take care of him at all and ignored his existence. In retrospect, I guess I was actually pretty mean. In the process, I dug a hole. Pretty soon I realized I couldn't get out. If I try to act kind now, he'll just think I'm crazy or pissed or something."

"That's a good point. You should still make up. It's unhealthy not to make up with your rivals or enemies. I hope I can make up with my neighbors, even if they still deny my right to exist."

"I'll try. I never realized I was actually hurting him. This is the first time I've really thought about it."

"I am happy that you want I make up. It makes my job a million times easier." Israel smiled, looking into the Englishman's emerald green eyes.

"Your job?"

"Well, us little ones have to look out for each other."

"But you're nearly as old as I am."

"But not all of us look more than 16. I still count as a little one. I haven't passed the 18 mark."

"True, true."

Israel sighed as they continued to converse on less serious topics. It made life much easier when you could talk with a friend.

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><p><strong>AN: This happens after WWII. It's actually about now-ish (no exact time point). People may ask, "Why is Israel not holding a grudge against Germany?" Well, Idit is here to answer that for you~**

** Idit: I don't hold a grudge on Germany that much. I don't think anyone will ever be over what happened with WWII in Germany (especially me), but Germany has made tons of progress. Forty or so years ago, they didn't even teach about the holocaust in their schools, but now they do in depth. Germany has the 3rd largest Jewish population in the world, too. And, we all know Germany hated his boss with a burning passion. And, Adolf Hitler was _Austrian._ While I still blame those Germans for electing him, I can't entirely hate them all. In times of need, people need a scape goat. It has happened to the Jews many times because they are usually a) a minority, and b) slightly alienated from the general population. I can't hate Austria or the Austrians either. Theodore Herzl was born in the Austro-Hungarian empire and lived in Austria for a long time, an without him, I'd probably not be my own country. There, Sei. Is that enough?**

** Sei: No. You forgot the last thing.**

**Idit: *sigh* Okay. Germany got plenty of punishment for WWII. He and his poeple couldn't show much national pride in public until they hosted the world cup, and even then there were conspiracy theorists... It that enough?**

**Sei: Yes~ Thanks for understanding. I have my ulterior motives for her not hating Germany as well (like the fact that I am of German descent), but what she said pretty much summed it up. That, and you should forgive, but never forget. *old man face* It will do you good in life. you will forgive the person, but learn from their mistakes. On a second topic, LOVE YOU ALL! Thanks for reviewing/following my story~  
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	7. Chapter 7: I'm a Man?

**Hola! To all my reviewers - You are amazing!**

**Also, I do not own any characters except Idit. She is mine. I wish I owned Hetalia, but that's Humaruya-sensei's job, not mine. I cant draw nearly as well as him. *hilds up stick figures of characters* See?**

**Anyway, please R&R. Enjoy~**

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><p>Ch. 7<p>

Israel woke up early, as always. It was the day of the world meeting in France and everyone except for Monaco and her seemed peeved at it. England had almost opted out, but his boss, America, and she made him come anyway.

Still, it was obvious that England didn't want to come. He was constantly muttering to himself and it took all the restraint that England had to stop him from blowing something up. This was why America was with him every second. He was worried for her, and wanted to be with her to "protect" her from Francis, but she knew Francis knew better.

Israel yawned and got out of bed. She went to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Israel shook her head, she must have been dreaming. She didn't look normal. She- wait! Israel was a man!

He cursed under his breath and walked back into her room. He rummaged through his suitcase, not finding anything that would remotely fit him except for a pair of very baggy cargo shorts. They weren't so baggy now.

Cautiously, he walked into the hallway. There was a crowd of girls in long, baggy t-shirts and not much else in the hallway. He immediately walked back in and closed the door. He needed something to call himself like this. Thinking about it for a while, he chose David. It was a fairly simple name with a deep meaning.

Then, there was a knock. He opened the door to as blonde girl with a button-down shirt tied around her bust and pants that looked 12 sizes too big. He looked at the girl wondering who it was.

"Israel, is that you?"

"Yeah..." David blinked a few times. His voice was almost as deep as Germany's when he was having a good day!

"Great! Well, can I borrow your suit? I really need it. You can borrow these!"

"Um, okay."

"Thanks dude!" Okay, it was America. No other country would be caught saying that. Ever. "So what can I call you?"

"David." Israel still wasn't used to his voice. David rummaged through his stuff, finally finding the suit. He handed it to America.

"Okay! Call me Amelia!" America then proceeded to walk into Israel's bathroom, change, and throw some khaki pants and a white button down at her. America walked back. "Do you have any shoes?"

David sighed and handed her the black heels he was planning on wearing before this. Amelia hugged him in thanks, leaving him an outfit in return.

He cautiously slipped it on, being sure to look as good as he could for the world meeting. Surprisingly, the outfit fit hind well. It was as if he had aged when this happened. He did an internal victory dance on that part.

Israel walked into the world meeting. He stopped, not knowing who anyone was except for America, he headed for her. She was laughing while two other woman argued over who did it. By the way they squabbled, she guessed they were France and England.

Nothing had gotten done (more so than usual with this one). Everyone had decided to go out for a drink.

While all the girls had these crazy, complex, expensive drinks, David had just gotten a beer. He sat surrounded by girls, but he still zoned out. Nobody noticed him, so he went outside to smoke.

He stood there for about half an hour before America came out.

"Y-you smoke Israel?"

"Only when I'm stressed." David breathed out a cloud of smoke. "It's not like you didn't."

"I guess, but it's bad for your lungs!"

"We're countries."

"So?"

"We're not going to die of lung cancer." He could see America's discomfort, so he snubbed out the cigarette and walked back inside with her.

As usual, England was being an idiot because of trying any sort of alcohol. She was dancing on a table with France trying to pull her off the table, surprisingly flustered by the whole thing. She looked at Israel pleadingly.

David walked over to the table and picked England up by the waist, putting her on the ground.

"Why the bloody hell d'ya do that Israel?" England's words were slurred together. She was really drunk.

Israel stared at England, shaking his head. "Self control."

He walked away, back out into the street. He went up to his hotel room and got ready for bed. He hoped that England would change them all back. He wanted to be Idit again.

**~~~The Next Morning~~~**

"THANK GOD! I'M BACK!"

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><p><strong><strong>This is a<strong> **confusing chapter. I am inexperienced at writing this kind of story. Please help me with some constructive criticism! And sorry for the shortness!****

**P.S. Happy Passover! Sorry, I didn't post earlier, but I was brain dead from eating too much matzo in such a small amount of time.**


	8. Chapter 8: Oh No

Being Israel Ch. 8

**A/N: Hola! I know the last chapter was kinda weird, but it was a one-time thing. This chapter's kind of short, but it's definitely interesting... :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, but I do own Idit Levi. If I owned Hetalia, this would not be fanfiction, this would be cannon.  
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**Please R&R! Free swiss chocolate to anyone who does!**

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><p>Israel sat at the world meeting before it started. She had a bad feeling about today. She didn't know what it was, but she hadn't felt this way in nearly ten years. It scared her.<p>

She didn't know what it was. Something was up. Or off. It was messing with her brain. Whatever it was, she kept staring at the door for some reason.

"Ve~ Israel? Where's Germany?" That was it! Germany wasn't there! He had been at every single world meeting she'd ever been to (and she assumed he was supposed to come to this one too).

"I don't know Feliciano. He's always here. I hope that he's -"

Israel was interrupted by a slamming door. In stepped Germany with no shirt and a huge smirk on his face. He held himself differently than usual. His eyes were bluer and his hair blonder (if that was even possible). He looked directly at her with a very scary, hateful look on his face. All of a sudden, she knew who it was.

"Heilrich..."

"What?"

"Nothing..."

Germany continued to walk toward her, both of them looking into the other's eyes in disgust. Everyone had seemed to notice it, as they had all quieted down.

It was like in those wild west movies America had shown her. She stood up, placing her hands on her hips. She raised her head so that she could continue to look into his eyes.

It was as if the whole world had stopped. As they stared at each other across the room, she could see the pure, unexplained hatred in his eyes. She tried to keep herself looking cool, but her poker face was wearing off.

He walked up to her. Germany was looking down at her.

"Israel."

"Heilrich. Pleasure to see you again. Now go away, we have a world meeting to get to."

Germany took out a gun. Israel reached for her own, realizing that the security staff had taken it away. He was holding the gun to her head.

"There's no way that's gonna happen, Jew." He cocked the gun. He wasn't playing, so neither was she.

Israel did what seemed the best thing to do at the time, kick him where it hurts. This only made Germany wince and drop the gun. He tried to punch her. She evaded (barely), kicking away the gun.

He lunged at her. She whipped out a punch and hit him in the nose. Blood spurted everywhere, but he stood strong.

He then grabbed her and put her up against the wall (which was pretty close). He leaned into her, she could feel his steady breath on her face.

"It's a shame, fräulein. If you weren't a Jew and you didn't look so plain, you could've been a great addition to my perfect race."

"The fact you'd try to create one shows me how naive you are. Nobody is perfect."

Then, Germany blinked. He saw what was happening and flushed, backing away.

"I-It happened again, didn't it?"

"Yes, Ludwig. You need to have better control of him now that you know he's there." Israel sat down in her seat and everything started to move again. The whole meeting went as planned.

After The Meeting

"Dude, that was so awesome! You were almost as awesome as Chuck Norris!"

"One, that was just kravmaga. Two, WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP ME?"

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><p><strong>AN: So, whatcha think? I remember doing kravmaga (Israeli martial arts) at camp ever since I was little. It's the only martial art that you can get a basic understanding of in 5 days! :D **


	9. Chapter 9: Palistine

**A/N: Sorry It's been so long since I've updated! I almost forgot about this fic... . I have been haing an internal debate about posting this chapter. Don't get me wrong, I agree with it and think it's on par with my other work, but it is on a very contraversial topic, and my veiws may not agree with everyone else's and I don't want to get in trouble for my political beliefs. I knew this fic would eventually become like this, but I had hoped to delay it a bit more. Oh well. Allonsy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia (If I did, this would be cannon, not ****fan****fiction), but I do own this piece of writing, Idit Levi, and the Palistine character I came up with.**

**Just to reiterate, I have my beliefs, you have yours. If you don't agree with my beliefs, so be it.**

**To all of you who have been reading this fic: You are AWESOME! Thank you guys for reading my story. It really means a lot. And to those of you who follow/review/read this story, sorry for the wait!**

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><p>Ch. 9<p>

Israel sat on her porch, listening to some music and sipping her soda. She leaned back and looked at the horizon. The sky was blue and cloudless, and the forest at the very edge of her property was in full-out green. It was almost like the whole world was in technicolor.

Then, a pain spread through Israel's arm. She grabbed it and winced, not wanting to notify anyone. She shook out her arm and saw a bruise forming on her left shoulder.

These sudden pains were becoming the norm. It meant that someone had bombed her people. It was nothing new, but Israel hated it. She wished that poser Palistinia would stop bombing her like that.

Suddenly, a hunched-over figure walked toward her from the woods. Israel quickly released her sleeve hiding her bruise. She quickly smiled, trying to hide the pain.

"Do not worry Israel, I already know about the bruse. I thought it should accompany me here," a shaky voice croaked.

An old man about the same size as Israel walked up. He had dark tan skin and wore a head scarf. He dressed in a green shirt, jacket, and pants along with brown sandals. He kept himself impeccably well-groomed, which may have been one of the things that always kept Israel on edge, though she suspected that it was supposed to make her feel like he was normal.

"Go away poser," Israel responded, staring into his eyes. "Get away from my house."

"Is that a very good way to treat your brother?"

"For the last time, You. Are. Not. My. Brother. You are a poser. You're not even older than Rome, and that's saying something. You're just a washed-up political official who stepped up. If Palistinia is ever actually born, you will trick him into thinking that he's a human. That could destroy your country."

"I am Palistinia. There is no doubting that."

"Yes there is, now please go away."

"I came here to discuss something with you, though. America's boss, he has suggested going back to the 1967-"

"No way in hell. Now go away."

"I just thought you should know, your biggest ally is turning on you," the old man said as he spun on his heel and walked away. Israel glared at him until she could no longer see the shape of the old man.

Israel got up and went inside. She sat on her bed and put her head in her hands. She couldn't believe what that poser just said. She turned on the radio.

The announcer was a man with a deep voice. He played Israel's favorite song. Then, there was a break and he began to talk politics. That was what she loved about this station, they had everything she needed in one place. The man played a piece of a speech by the US President, Barak Obama. She had liked him a bit: he was the first presidential candidate to wear her flag out of the potential presidential candidates in the 2008 election. At this point, though, she was questioning his thought process. That poser was right, he had suggested going back to the 1967 borders!

Israel stood up and switched off the radio with a humph. How could anyone say that? She would have understood his thoughts if she had gone to war with Palestine with her as the provoker, but that never happened. The land she won during the six day war was land she won, not from on a conquering spree, but in a war of self-defense.

Also, Palestine was not a country. It was a former Brittish colony. All the people who identified themselves as "Palistinians" we're just refugees. All of her neighbors had refused to let the settlers back into their countries. Israel had even given them the West Bank!

Every day was a constant struggle. Her neighbors hated her and every day, more and more people decided the poser was more likable than her and decided they wanted him more. She was fighting what some would call an impossible war. Her neighbors didn't just hate her, they denied her right to exist.

And now, with America's boss saying such things, she was sick with worry. She hoped someone did something soon. Israel would have to have more countries backing her. She already knew a few countries that would back her without question, like France, but she wasn't sure about some others.

And what was she going to do? Tough it out, as she always did.

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><p><strong>AN: Do you like it? Did I represent everyone well? Please, review/PM me and tell me. Thanks! :)**


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